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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30004143">The Once And Future Dean</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentumCivitas/pseuds/ArgentumCivitas'>ArgentumCivitas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Community (TV), Reno: 911!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant if you squint a little, Community pre-canon, Crossover, Ensemble Cast, Gen, Mistaken Identity, Origin Story, Reno post-canon, Welcome to my headcanon, referenced sexual content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:14:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30004143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentumCivitas/pseuds/ArgentumCivitas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig Pelton just needs one more letter of recommendation for his new job as Dean of Greendale Community College…but the Reno Sheriff’s Department only know him as the infamous recidivist Andrew. When he asks for their help, what are the deputies going to do?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Once And Future Dean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It is my firm headcanon that Dean Craig Pelton from Community is Andrew from Reno 911!—or maybe vice versa, and not just because they’re both played by the same actor. I can totally see the Dean needing to call the Sheriff’s Department to get himself extricated from a sex doll, handcuffing himself to a variety of items around town (like a bedframe, a porch railing, or a stripper pole), or threatening to jump off a bridge, just because he’s feeling lonely and wants some attention.</p><p>For anyone who isn’t familiar with the world of Reno 911!, it’s a city full of misfits, patrolled by a Sheriff’s Department that’s just as messed-up as the criminals they only sort of manage to catch, some of the time. I don’t think of Reno and Greendale as two sides of the same coin, but rather as two coins jingling around in the same pocket universe.</p><p>This story takes place after Reno 911! Season 6 and before Community begins. It was a lot of fun to write, and I hope that you enjoy it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every single deputy in the Reno Sheriff’s Department on that particular Wednesday afternoon was doing their best to ignore the loud sobbing that was echoing down the hallways from the jail side of the station. Besides, it wasn't unusual for someone to be crying in the station every now and then. Sometimes it was a frightened Jehovah's Witness who one of the deputies brought in as a prank, though that had pretty much stopped happening since Garcia transferred down to Carson; sometimes it was a soft-eyed pot dealer who blundered a little too close to Nick the Grip; and sometimes it was Trudy Wiegel having a bad reaction to a change in one of her prescriptions. But today, the person crying was none of the above.</p><p>Dangle and Junior had just gotten back from patrol empty-handed, and as they came through the main station door, they stopped short at the booking desk, where Cindy (the department’s busty Asian intern) smiled brightly at both of them. “Hi, handsome!” she said, beaming.</p><p>“Hi, Cindy,” Dangle said, while Junior just waved. “Who’s making that noise?”</p><p>Cindy looked puzzled—well, more puzzled than usual. “What noise?”</p><p>“You don’t hear that?” Dangle said, as the sobbing shifted to a high-pitched wailing. It sounded like whoever it was that was crying might have started to say something that sounded kind of like, “I can’t believe this happened to me again,” but it was hard to make out the words—if they were words.</p><p>“I don’t hear nothing,” Cindy said. “All I know is this handsome officer still owe me twenty dollar from this morning!” She pointed right at Junior as she said this, who was frantically making a “shut up” gesture at her, waving his right hand back and forth.</p><p>“Really, Travis?” Dangle said, looking over his sunglasses at Junior. “We’ve talked about this, Cindy’s not a sex slave anymore.” The Sheriff’s Department had busted up that trafficking ring months ago and Cindy, left with nowhere to go, had been working as their “intern” ever since. But the job description of a Sheriff’s Department intern did not include giving out free handjobs on demand to any deputy who wanted one.</p><p>“And that’s why I was just about to pay her,” Junior said, pulling out his wallet and handing Cindy a twenty-dollar bill, which she stuffed into her ample cleavage. “It ain’t slavery if you get paid.”</p><p>“Look, just don’t do it again,” Dangle said. The noise was starting to give him a headache. “Cindy, who brought in the screamer?”</p><p>“The big guy,” Cindy said, using her hands to indicate not someone tall, but someone with a large pair of breasts.</p><p>“It was her idea in the first place,” Junior said, defensive. “We had seven minutes to kill until the coffee was ready.”</p><p>Dangle ignored Junior and said to Cindy, “You mean Jonesy?” Jones had kind of been letting himself go since Clemmy had transferred down to Carson, but he wasn’t that out of shape. However, before anyone could say anything else, the door to the briefing room opened.</p><p>“Is he still going on in there?” Declan said. “Oh, hey, guys. Cindy,” he continued, as he joined them at the booking desk.</p><p>“Hey, Officer Big Guy,” Cindy said to Declan. “You want some lunch? My treat today!” She fished the twenty out of her top and held it up between two fingers, with a grin, before winking at Declan and putting it back.</p><p>"Who's making all that noise in the jail?" Dangle asked.</p><p>Declan shrugged. "Little bald guy," he said. "He said some crap about a job and a letter of recommendation, but I figured he was just shooting his mouth off."</p><p>“What’d you bring him in for, then?” Junior said.</p><p>“Get this,” Declan said. “We got a call from the Boys and Girls Club that someone dropped off a box of,” and here he looked around furtively before continuing, “<em>inappropriate</em> items for their Christmas toy drive, sometime last night.”</p><p>Inappropriate was a pretty broad term—in Reno, that could be almost anything. “What kind of inappropriate?” Dangle asked, in an attempt to narrow down the options.</p><p>“How’d you track him down?” Junior said.</p><p>“The box still had a mailing label on it,” Declan said, “and as for inappropriate, I’ll just say I didn’t realize they made so many different kinds of black-and-white polka-dot dildos.” From those clues, Dangle thought he had a pretty good idea of who it could be.</p><p>“What’s dildo,” Cindy said, wide-eyed and perfectly innocent, “and why it have polka dot?”</p><p>“You two can go ahead and explain that to her,” Dangle said to both Declan and Junior as he headed for the jail.</p><p>Sure enough, the “little bald guy,” turned out to be a very distraught Andrew, who was sobbing much more quietly by the time Dangle made it to the area with the holding cell. “Hi, Andrew,” he said, as Andrew sniffled, took off his glasses, and wiped his eyes with the hem of his sleeveless flannel shirt.</p><p>“Officer, I’m very glad that you’re here, because there has been a grave injustice,” Andrew said, as he put his glasses back on. “I’m here in this cell when I should be speaking with you person to person.”</p><p>“Andrew, do you know <em>why</em> it is that you’re here in this cell?” Dangle said. He was willing to play along, to a point.</p><p>“I’m certain that I do <em>not</em>,” Andrew said. “All I know is, I was at home packing up my things, getting everything in order, getting ready to start my new job, and then two very large men came knocking on my door to arrest me.”</p><p>“You don’t think it has anything to do with the box that you put in the donation bin at the Boys and Girls Club last night?” Dangle said.</p><p>Andrew’s face was red from crying, but he suddenly turned pale. “That’s the Boys and Girls Club?” He sat down on the bench in the cell. “I thought it was the Peppermint Zebra. Don’t they do the Toys for Twats drive at Christmas every year?”</p><p>“Andrew, the health department shut them down four years ago,” Dangle said. The Boys and Girls Club had picked up the building after the foreclosure and turned it into one of the few perfectly respectable establishments in Reno. The books from the Sheriff’s Department book-donation box ended up over there more often than not.</p><p>“Now I’m glad I’m leaving Reno,” Andrew said, with feigned bravado. “I don’t want to live in a place that doesn’t provide you with a convenient way to recycle your unwanted intimate items.”</p><p>“You aren’t going anywhere,” Dangle said.</p><p>“Well, probably not now,” Andrew said, and he started crying again, softer and deeper this time. This time it seemed far less theatrical and much more genuine, and it made Dangle feel just a little guilty. Even though he knew he’d probably regret it, he grabbed one of the cheap chairs from along the wall and sat down.</p><p>“What’s going on, Andrew?” he asked, bracing himself for what would probably be a long and rambling story. “You said something about a new job?”</p><p>“I didn’t always used to be like this, you know,” Andrew said, through the tears. “I was the vice dean at the community college.”</p><p>“Before they shut it down?” Dangle asked. “Wait a minute, why did it get shut down?” It had to have been about four years ago, at this point. The old buildings had all been torn down about halfway, but for some reason, the demolition had stopped before everything was completed. The entire site was now just a sad, graffiti-covered, asbestos-filled ruin.</p><p>“Spanish Mike Alvarez,” Andrew said, and Dangle clucked his tongue in recognition. Spanish Mike had ripped off the Sheriff’s Department, too, before he was caught. “And then Mayor Hernandez sold all the remaining assets to those awful casino developers, during his first term as mayor. I told him it was a bad idea, but he didn’t listen to me.” Dangle almost wanted to ask Andrew how exactly he’d told the mayor it was a bad idea, but he decided that the story would probably be more lie than truth, and anyway, it wasn’t that important. At least, not right now it wasn’t.</p><p>“Get back on track, Andrew,” Dangle said, instead of asking about the mayor. “What about the job?”</p><p>“It’s at another community college,” Andrew said, with a sniffle. “Out in Colorado, in a town called Greendale. I only applied for the position as dean because my sister lives out there, I didn’t think they would even interview me.” The whole thing seemed pretty far-fetched to Dangle, too. Andrew was once a respectable vice-dean? Andrew went on a successful job interview? Andrew had a <em>sister</em>? “They made me a preliminary offer,” Andrew continued, ”but they want references before it’s final. I’ve got two already, I just need one more. I was just about to call you guys and ask if you’d write me a letter of recommendation.”</p><p>“Us?” Dangle said, skeptical. “Why would you think that <em>we’d</em> recommend you for a job?”</p><p>“Look, I don’t have a lot of friends left out here,” Andrew said. “I was not exactly the most popular of vice-deans with the rest of the faculty. I cashed in all the favors I could, but now I’m tapped out.” He darted his eyes around the room, even though there was no one there but the two of them. “And besides, something happened to me when I went out there for that interview.”</p><p>“Do I even want to know?” Dangle asked. Knowing Andrew, it was probably something disgusting, obscene, or both.</p><p>“It wasn’t anything like that,” Andrew said. “It was like I was someone else. Someone better than I am when I’m here. I didn’t realize it before because I’ve been in Reno so long.”</p><p>“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Dangle said. He’d heard a lot of dumb excuses for crime over the years, ranging from plausible deniability to flat-out lies. This was way out on the stupid end of the scale.</p><p>“I’m telling you, it’s the truth,” Andrew said. “I charmed that board six ways to Sunday. They said I was the most impressive candidate they’d ever interviewed. They loved my ideas for student dances and paintball tournaments to boost morale and they even said they’d install a closet in my office to hold my costume collection.”</p><p>“Okay, now <em>that’s</em> the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Dangle said. “How the fuck did you pull that off?”</p><p>“I did so well on this interview only because it wasn’t in Reno,” Andrew said. “This town is fucking me up and now I’ve got a chance to get away and start a brand-new life, a better life, far away from here.”</p><p>“You think it’s Reno that’s making you act like you do?” Dangle asked. “Reno is the <em>only</em> reason you have seven disorderly-conduct misdemeanors on your record in the past year?” He wanted to add that there were many, many more beyond that—so many that he’d almost lost count. And misdemeanors were just so much more annoying to deal with than felonies. They took the same amount of time and paperwork, but they ended with just a whimper of a fine instead of the satisfying bang of a conviction.</p><p>“Okay, yeah, a lot of that is probably on me,” Andrew said, sheepish. “But I know, I just know, I can do better. And there isn’t any way that I’m going to do any better here. Believe me, I’ve tried, over and over again.” He looked at Dangle and wiped away a stray tear. “Won’t you please, please just help me out, with this one tiny little favor? It’s just one letter,” he said, a pleading tone in his voice.</p><p>Dangle considered Andrew’s request, thoughtfully. One letter didn’t seem like too much to ask, and it probably wouldn’t take more than about twenty minutes to write. But then again, Andrew was a constant nuisance. It seemed like the deputies were busting him for something or another every few weeks, and every time it was for something either more outlandish or more stupid than the time before. He couldn’t think of a single redeeming quality to the man in front of him…or a single reason to recommend him for a job.</p><p>“No,” Dangle said, and Andrew started wailing again. As Dangle left the jail, the sound followed him down the hallway, but it wasn’t nearly as bad inside the briefing room once the door was closed. Declan had disappeared somewhere, but Junior was in there with a cup of coffee, reading the paper. He looked up as Dangle took a seat at the table.</p><p>“What’s the problem?” Junior said.</p><p>“It’s Andrew,” Dangle said.</p><p>“Yeah, I coulda told you that,” Junior said. “What’d he want?”</p><p>“Declan was right,” Dangle said. “He wants a letter of recommendation for a job.”</p><p>“You think it’s real?” Junior said.</p><p>“He thinks it’s real,” Dangle said. “He said some community college wants to hire him.”</p><p>“That’ll be the fuckin’ day,” Junior said. "It wasn’t the one here, was it?"</p><p>"No, he said it’s out in Colorado," Dangle said. "He called it Green something. Greendale, maybe?" He hadn’t been paying close attention to that part of Andrew’s story, but that sounded like it could be right.</p><p>“You gonna do it?” Junior asked, but the question was largely rhetorical.</p><p>Dangle just looked at him, over his glasses, and opened up the top file folder on the stack in front of him. He didn’t normally get a chance to review the arrest reports in the middle of the day, but it was turning out to be a slow afternoon.</p><p>The next fifteen minutes or so were punctuated by the echoing sounds of sobbing as the briefing room door opened and the other deputies joined Dangle and Junior around the table, all of them satisfied with the explanation that it was only Andrew crying in the holding cell about not getting a job and that it wasn’t a big deal. Just another normal Wednesday in Reno.</p><p>Trudy was polishing off a leftover donut from the morning, Williams was filing one of her nails, and Dangle was almost through the stack of reports when Junior put down the paper. "Hold up a minute," he said, thinking out loud. "If Andrew does get that job, he'd move out to wherever-the-fuck Colorado...and then we ain't gonna get called out to deal with his bullshit every couple of weeks no more?"</p><p>Dangle snapped his fingers at this sudden flash of insight. It was such a perfect solution to the constant, annoying problem that was Andrew. "Travis, you're a fucking genius sometimes. I could kiss you on the mouth right now," he said.</p><p>"Please don't," Junior said, with a shudder.</p><p>“I’ll kiss you on the mouth any time you want, Jim,” Trudy said, but Dangle ignored her, and so did everyone else.</p><p>"Let's write him that fucking letter and make him someone else's problem,” Dangle said. “Someone go get him out of the holding cell and bring him in here in case we need more information."</p><p>After a frantic chorus of “Not it,” that Declan lost, he was elected to go fetch Andrew while Dangle gave everyone a brief rundown of what had brought them all to this point.</p><p>Five minutes later, a slightly indignant Andrew took a seat at the end of the table, still in handcuffs, and said, “I take it that since you’ve brought me out here, you’ve reconsidered my request?”</p><p>“Not so fast, Andrew,” Dangle said. “You <em>might</em> have convinced me, but if you want a letter that comes from the whole department, you’ve got to convince everyone else. Start talking.” He didn’t really think everyone else needed too much convincing, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to fuck with Andrew, just a little bit.</p><p>“Well, everyone,” Andrew said, “I’ve known some of you for years,” he looked right at Jones as he said this, “and I’ve just had the pleasure of meeting some of you recently,” and with this, he looked at Rizzo and Declan, “but what you probably don’t know is that I am a complex person. I am large and I contain multitudes.”</p><p>“Did you just quote Walt Whitman?” Declan asked.</p><p>“Yes, I did,” Andrew said. “Good for you for knowing that.”</p><p>“Is he the one that makes the chocolates?” Rizzo said.</p><p>“That’s a Whitman’s Sampler,” Trudy said. “Back when I was pregnant, I bought ten of them when they were on sale after Valentine’s Day and ate them all at once and then I threw up in the book-donation box.”</p><p>“Girl, you told us that was a crackhead,” Williams said, exchanging a look with Jones.</p><p>“I mean, I think a crackhead did throw up in the book-donation box,” Trudy said. “I just also threw up in the book-donation box.”</p><p>“Anyway,” Andrew said, trying to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand, “I have a chance to start my whole life over with a brand-new job as dean at Greendale Community College and I just need one more letter of recommendation to get it. So of course, I thought of you fine human beings here at the Reno Sheriff’s Department, who do such a good job of serving and protecting our city.”</p><p>“Who else recommended you?” Jones asked. Dangle had to admit, he was a little curious about that, too.</p><p>“Levon French,” Andrew said, and the deputies briefly burst into a round of Levon’s famous “Who wants linoleum floors?” jingle. “I see you’re familiar with his work,” Andrew said. “He’ll sign anything you put in front of him. For a price.”</p><p>“What’d it cost you?” Junior asked.</p><p>“Oh, it wasn’t money,” Andrew said. “My girlfriend wants to stay here in Reno, so I left her with him.”</p><p>“You mean the sex doll,” Declan said.</p><p>“Her name is Sue,” Andrew said. “And yes, that’s who I mean. She didn’t want to move out to Colorado, anyway.”</p><p>“And the second letter?” Dangle said, changing the subject. He didn’t want to hear anything else about Andrew’s sex-doll girlfriend.</p><p>“Mayor Hernandez,” Andrew said.</p><p>“No fuckin’ way,” Junior said.</p><p>“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Andrew said, sitting back in the chair and dropping his handcuffed hands in his lap. “Go check my personal effects, I brought copies.”</p><p>Sure enough, mixed in with everything else that Andrew had on him when he was arrested, there was an absolutely glowing letter of recommendation from the non-indicted mayor of Reno. “How in the hell did <em>you</em> get a letter from Mayor Hernandez?” Declan asked.</p><p>“He’s in my tennis club,” Andrew said. “The board was very rude when he first wanted to join, but I sponsored him and we’ve played tennis together there every Thursday for the past six years. That’s why I have such a weird tan.”</p><p>“That is…one of the least strange things about this conversation,” Dangle said. It <em>would</em> be just that twisted kind of Reno logic that would cause Andrew and Mayor Hernandez to be friends with one another…and for Andrew to have advised the mayor against the community-college redevelopment project. Stranger things had been known to happen in Reno.</p><p>“He also gave me a huge kickback when he sold the old community-college property to those casino developers,” Andrew said, as he adjusted his glasses.</p><p>“Yeah, that makes more sense,” Jones said.</p><p>“I been wonderin’ where you got the seventeen grand for that sex doll,” Junior said.</p><p>“I told you, her name is Sue,” Andrew said. “And she’s not mine anymore, she belongs to Levon French now. When you see her in those linoleum commercials, say hi to her for me.”</p><p>“Hey, wait a minute,” Declan said, reading through the letter from Mayor Hernandez. “This says your name is Craig.”</p><p>“It is Craig,” Andrew said, matter-of-fact.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Dangle said. “Andrew, what in the fuck?”</p><p>“My name isn’t really Andrew,” Andrew said. “You guys got it wrong the first time you arrested me.”</p><p>“Who arrested him first?” Dangle said to the rest of the deputies, looking at them each in turn. He skipped Declan and Rizzo because they were both too new to the department. Clemmy and Garcia weren’t around anymore. Trudy and Williams both looked him straight in the eye, and Junior remained inscrutable behind his sunglasses. Only Jones was avoiding his gaze, looking guilty as hell. “Jonesy? What happened?” he asked.</p><p>“It was so long ago,” Jones said. “I don’t remember.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell us your name wasn’t Andrew?” Dangle said, straight to Andrew.</p><p>“I didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out your mistake,” Andrew said.</p><p>“All short white dudes look the same to me,” Jones said, with a shrug.</p><p>“We’ve been arresting you for like six years, Andrew,” Dangle said, and winced as he used the wrong name. “As many times as you’ve been here, you couldn’t have said something in all that time?”</p><p>“And are you embarrassed now?” Andrew said. “Because this is why I didn’t bring it up before.”</p><p>While this was going on, Trudy had sifted through Andrew’s pile of personal belongings and pulled out his driver’s license. “He’s right,” she said. “It’s right here. Craig Isidore Pelton. Aww, that’s a nice name, Andrew.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Andrew said, without correcting her.</p><p>“All right, people,” Dangle said, feeling terrible about the mix-up. Even though Andrew—Craig—was a pain in the ass, Jones still should have gotten his name right. “That’s it. We are writing this letter and we’re doing it now. Everyone grab a pen and some paper and write down something nice about Andrew. I mean Craig.” He looked over at Andrew. “Fuck it, can we just keep calling you Andrew? I mean, it’s been six years.”</p><p>“If you’re going to write me this letter for real, you can call me whatever you want,” Andrew said. “I’m kind of used to it from you guys by now, anyway.”</p><p>“Do I have to write something?” Rizzo said. “I don’t even know this guy. I’ve never met him before in my life.”</p><p>“What do you want to know about me?” Andrew said, a little flirtatiously, but everyone else ignored him.</p><p>“Go see if there’s any calls,” Dangle said, to Rizzo, as he grabbed one of the department’s laptops and booted it up.</p><p>The briefing room filled with the sound of pens scratching on paper as Dangle took the letter from Mayor Hernandez to use as a template and began typing, pausing as the deputies handed him their contributions.</p><p>“What’s a fancier way of sayin’ ‘titty bar’?” Junior asked the room.</p><p>“Gentlemen’s club,” Declan said.</p><p>“Cabaret,” Trudy said, with a fake French accent.</p><p>“That’s no good, they’re gonna know we ain’t French,” Junior said.</p><p>“How about ‘purveyor of pleasure’?” Andrew said.</p><p>“Shut up, Andrew,” Jones said.</p><p>“He’s right, though, that is fancier,” Junior said, as he wrote it down.</p><p>Instead of writing, Williams was reading over Dangle’s shoulder as he typed. “What does that even mean, ‘the boundless limits of their own potential’?” she said.</p><p>“It doesn’t mean shit, Ray,” Dangle said. “It just sounds good. I’ve written tons of these letters before. Trust me, people who hire people eat that shit up.”</p><p>Jones threw down his pen and handed Dangle his paper. “I can’t come up with anything else. I’m going to go see if Rizzo needs any help,” he said, as he left the briefing room. Williams followed him out shortly after, claiming she couldn’t think of anything else either. But with some judicious padding and flowery phrases here and there, the letter didn’t take too long to write, all told.</p><p>Some of the contributions ended up being more helpful than others. Jonesy’s wasn’t bad, Junior’s was surprisingly coherent, and Trudy’s was, predictably, a drawing of a cat. “That looks just like my cat, Mister Paws,” Andrew said, as he caught a glimpse of it. “Say, you wouldn’t know anyone who wants to adopt him, would you?”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Trudy said. “I’ll adopt your cat right now!”</p><p>“Are you sure you want to do that, Andrew?” Dangle said, as he typed the final paragraph of the letter. “You know she’s been banned from the animal shelter.”</p><p>“Suspended,” Trudy said. “I got suspended from the animal shelter.”</p><p>“Is that what they’re callin’ lifetime bans nowadays?” Junior said.</p><p>“How’d you get banned from the animal shelter?” Declan asked.</p><p>“Because of my baby,” Trudy said.</p><p>“Because you sold your baby,” Dangle said, as he hit the last few keys on the keyboard to save the letter and print it out.</p><p>“You sold your baby?” Declan said. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you, Trudy?”</p><p>“How long have you got?” Dangle said, leaning back in his chair. “Do you want the whole story from the beginning, or just the highlights?”</p><p>“It was for the best,” Junior said. “You don’t want her raisin’ a kid.”</p><p>“That uptight bitch who runs the shelter isn’t mad because I sold my baby,” Trudy said. “She’s mad because I didn’t sell him to her. And now she won’t give me any more cats.” She turned to Andrew. “But I swear I’ll take good care of Mister Paws!”</p><p>“I believe you, Trudy,” Andrew said. “I believe in second chances. Just like all of you are giving me here today by writing this letter.” He noticed that Dangle was done typing. “Wait, aren’t you going to let me read it?”</p><p>“It’s a first draft,” Dangle said, as he slid the laptop over to Andrew, who held up his hands, still in the handcuffs. “Someone let him out so he can type.” As Declan unlocked the handcuffs, Dangle continued, “Don’t you dare change too much of it, or else we won’t send it at all.”</p><p>“I won’t, I promise,” Andrew said as he started to read, making small adjustments to the text here and there. He was done fairly quickly, as the letter was just shy of a page long. “That was really nice, you guys,” he said, with a sniffle. “Thank you.”</p><p>“We do want you to get this job, Andrew,” Dangle said, which was the truth. Writing the letter had made him feel a little sympathy for Andrew—Craig—whatever his name really was.</p><p>It wasn’t often that someone came into the station with the genuine intent of improving their life. Some days it felt like all the Sheriff’s Department did was fuck up, over and over again, for the whole world to see. But Dangle genuinely hoped that Craig—Andrew—whichever—would get this job, and not just because he’d leave Reno behind and never annoy them again. The whole point of everything they did was to make their community better, and Andrew—Craig—had been part of their community for a long time. Today, they’d found a way to help him out. Tomorrow, they’d try and help someone else.</p><p>“We’ll put this on some official letterhead and send it out from here,” Dangle said to Andrew, in an attempt to wrap up the entire incident. “Now do you promise not to do anything stupid from now until you move?”</p><p>“I won’t, I swear,” Andrew said. “This is the absolute last time you’ll be hearing from me.”</p><p>“I’ll drive you home,” Trudy said. “You can tell me all about Mister Paws on the way.”</p><p>“Hey, wait, you can’t just let him go! What about the box of dildos?” Declan said, but it was too late—Andrew and Trudy were already out the door.</p>
<hr/><p>If Dangle had used everyone’s suggestions as they made them, without any changes, the letter might have looked kind of like this:</p><p>Dear Colorado Community College Board of Trustees,</p><p>We <strike>have no choice</strike> are pleased to recommend <strike>Andrew</strike> Craig Pelton for the position of Dean at Greendale Community College. Mr. Pelton has been a <strike>total pain in the ass</strike> fixture of the community here in Reno for many, many years and has always brought a lot of "joie de vivre" to our fair city. His outside-the-box thinking may have been what's caused our paths to cross on more than one occasion, but his <strike>completely batshit insane ideas</strike> enthusiasm for the unconventional will surely be an asset to Greendale's campus. We feel that Mr. Pelton will thrive in an environment <strike>where prostitution isn't legal </strike>that will be better able to make full use of his considerable talents.</p><p>Sadly, while we <strike>don’t know shit about</strike> aren't familiar with Mr. Pelton's professional qualifications for this position, we can offer you an endorsement of his character instead. He is an avid supporter and patron of Reno's small-business community, where his attention to detail has ensured that <strike>all the titty bars and whorehouses</strike> every independent purveyor of pleasure in our town is properly and prominently displaying their "Employees Must Wash Hands" signs <strike>because he called us to complain that they weren’t every time he went to one of them for like six months</strike>.</p><p>The parade that Mr. Pelton stages in his neighborhood every July Fourth is something that we <strike>dread having to deal with</strike> look forward to enjoying each year. It is <strike>a Radio Flyer wagon with a bunch of Salvation Army crap glued to it</strike> a bold and decisive artistic statement that is a delight to behold <strike>and always fucks up the traffic</strike> in all directions <strike>because he drags it down the middle of the street</strike>. Just as Mr. Pelton has <strike>annoyed the fuck out of all of his neighbors</strike> explored the limits of what a parade can be with each new year, we have no doubt that he will also encourage every Greendale student to explore the boundless limits of their own potential.</p><p>Above all, he is creative <strike>because he ain’t got nothing better to do with his time</strike>. Who but Mr. Pelton would think to decorate his yard for every holiday at once? <strike>No one, because they’re not a goddamn crazy person.</strike> Even when the Reno City Council passed an ordinance against that kind of festivity, <strike>it didn’t fucking stop him</strike> he was undeterred in his celebration. If you want someone to come up with new ways to get your students engaged in campus life, Mr. Pelton is an untapped fountain of innovative ideas <strike>even if they are something that no one asked for and are weird as shit</strike>.</p><p>Finally, one thing is for certain: things are never, ever dull when he is around. Please hire Mr. Pelton <strike>so he'll get the fuck out of Reno</strike> as Dean of Greendale Community College.</p><p>Sincerely yours,</p><p>The Reno Sheriff's Department</p>
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